We started soon after seven, every member of the party carrying his own pack, except Albert and McLean, who had been already despatched without loads. Our advance had much of the character of that of yesterday, along a steep hill side, among fallen trees from four to six feet in diameter. Our progress was exceedingly slow through these difficulties; at length we reached the _cached_ provisions at eleven o’clock. The hour of short commons was passed, and at our mid-day meal we had a sumptuous fare. We found tinned oysters, potatoes, coffee, bacon, flour, onions and such delicacies; we also had an example of the saying that “it never rains but it pours,” for my son fortunately shot a salmon in the Eagle River. We were thus in the very lap of luxury; but our business was to do more than revel on good fare. We had to be up and moving. The Indians expressed great astonishment when the order was given to march. They expected we should remain here for a few days to feast on the good things till they were done: as they term it in British Columbia, to have a regular “potlatch.” We continued our journey, having horses to carry the loads. Occasionally we ourselves mount, but the trail is so rough that for the best part of the distance it was easier made on foot. The horses were fresh after a week’s rest, and for an hour they bounded over the logs and rocks with ease, but they soon settled down into their ordinary pack-horse walk. Two miles from our dinner camp we crossed a stream of bright blue water from the north, nearly equal in volume to the Eagle River. Four miles further we met Mr. Joseph Hunter on his way to find us. He gave us the welcome news that to-morrow we would be on a waggon road, now being constructed over the western end of Eagle Pass, and that at Shuswap Lake we would find a steamer to take us to Kamloops. Our trail did not improve. It continued on the hill side over rocky ground, partially through a _brulé_. Our march was tedious, for we were more on foot than in the saddle. Eight miles from our noon camp we reached the north fork of the Eagle River, a stream about eighty feet in width. The water was turbid, indicative of a glacial source. We found some difficulty in fording it, owing to the rapidity of the current and the bed of the stream being full of large boulders. A mile further on we camped on the hill side among the charred remains of a forest fire, and had an excellent supper. The moon rose, nearly at the full, lighting the lofty hills in our front, and as we sat by the fire Mr. Hunter told us all he knew of the doings of the outer world, of which we had lost all trace for nearly four weeks. We learned that our camp is but four or five miles in a direct course from a working party constructing a waggon road in our direction.